


Viscount and Viscountess of House Tethras*

by mrs_theirin



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Bran is super stressed out, F/M, Mage Hawke (Dragon Age), Purple Hawke (Dragon Age), Viscount Varric, Viscount shenanigans, Viscountess Hawke, it's Eden and Varric, just good clean fun, what was he expecting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:13:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26937943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_theirin/pseuds/mrs_theirin
Summary: Viscount Varric and Viscountess Eden Hawke are bored out of their minds with all of their duties. Fortunately for them, they know a certain pirate who can distract Bran long enough to have fun. Chaos ensues (aka Kirkwall residents are crazy).
Relationships: Bran Cavin/Stress, Female Hawke/Varric Tethras, Hawke/Varric Tethras
Comments: 8
Kudos: 10





	Viscount and Viscountess of House Tethras*

“Eden,” Varric warned as her arms wrapped around his shoulders. “Not here.”

“Why not?” she murmured, placing soft, chaste kisses along his neck.

The door to the office opened and Seneschal Bran walked in, shaking his head and pinching his nose from what looked like an already forming headache. He had them regularly with Eden and Varric in charge. Eden stood up abruptly and Varric chuckled. “That’s why.”

“Good evening, Bran,” Eden said, putting on her best smile. “What—”

Bran waved his hand. “I don’t have time to listen to you two toy with me today. You have a lot of visitors, considering you spent all of last  _ month  _ vacationing in the Hissing Wastes.”

“Well, yeah, that’s why we have a house there, Bran,” she teased. “Besides, I’m sure you had a perfect hold on things.”

“I did not. That is why I specifically asked you not to leave Kirkwall for more than a week.” Bran placed some books on Varric’s desk harshly. “Did you forget what happened last time you left?”

Eden and Varric snickered. “No, Bran, we haven’t,” Varric answered. “Are you implying we’re poor judges of character?”

“Yes,” Bran hissed. “Now sit up. Eden, keep your hands off of the Viscount or so help me—”

“Bran! Calling me Eden! Not very official of you, is it?”

Bran sighed deeply. “Will you just sit down? Or stand menacingly behind him or whatever it is you do when I’m not around.” 

“And if I thought the Viscount’s lap was—”

_ “No,”  _ he said firmly. “One of these days, you will take this job seriously.”

“I doubt it,” Varric muttered, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Come on, Eden. Let’s behave today.”

“Oh, fine,” she said, sliding into her seat with a pout on her face. “But only because you asked nicely. Do I get something for it?”

“Of course.” Varric leaned over to give her a kiss just as the doors opened. They turned to see a woman with a child enter the room.

“Good evening, Viscount and Viscountess,” she said. “I’m terribly sorry to be the first person you see today, but you see, my boy here has a question for you.”

Eden and Varric exchanged looks, then glanced over at Bran. He looked annoyed.

“He wouldn’t leave it be unless I took him to see you,” she continued, “so here we are. Go ahead, darling. They’re listening.”

The little boy stepped forward timidly, looking down at the ground. “I wanna know how much longer I have to be in school.”

Eden struggled not to laugh as Varric leaned forward. “You want school to be over?” he asked.

The boy looked up, excited. “Yes, Your Grace! No more school. For any of us! See, my friends from school asked me to ask you and—”

His mother yanked him back. “This is what you dragged me here to ask? You said it was important!”

“No, no,” Eden said. “This is important! I say if the boy doesn’t want to go to school, he shouldn’t have to!”

Bran stepped forward quickly, as she knew he would. “No, I apologize, but the Viscountess is wrong. Every young boy and girl needs an education. Sorry to disappoint.”

“Something tells me you’re not that sorry,” she teased, sinking under Bran’s deadly glare. 

“Have a good day, Serah,” he offered the woman, and hurried her out the door, shutting it behind him before the next visitor could come in. “Viscountess Hawke, you cannot—”

“I  _ know,  _ Bran. You’re so boring.”

“I am trying to run a city through the two most incompetent and irresponsible people I have ever met. Boring is a side effect I must deal with.” 

“Now, now, Bran. You’ll break her heart with such mean words,” Varric offered. “She’s so fragile and soft.”

“Hawke is anything but soft. Now you two will—” Bran turned at the sound of the door, pausing to listen to what the man had to say. He pursed his lips tightly.

“Something wrong?” Eden asked, an expectant smile on her face. 

He hung his head, sighing heavily. “I have to leave. Something important happening in Lowtown.” He started to leave, then turned back to them. “If I find out this is something you set up, you two are going to be in trouble. And Maker’s breath, Eden, wear your crown!”

Eden wiggled her fingers at him. “Have fun!”

When the doors slammed behind him, she and Varric burst into laughter. “You’d think he’d stop falling for that one,” he said.

“Good old Bran.” She clapped her hands together. “What game are we playing today?”

“Oh, I don’t know. How long do you think Isabela can distract him?”

“It’s Isabela.”

“Good point.”

Eden hummed. “How about...alternating saying yes or no to whoever comes in, no matter the question? Obviously if someone comes in with a genuine, important question, we’ll answer accordingly, but Kirkwall isn’t known for its deep, philosophical residents.”

Varric grinned. “Sounds like a plan. You know, I am so lucky I have you by my side.”

“Varric!” Eden feigned embarrassment. “You never say such nice words to me!”

“That’s because you don’t need me to say them,” he murmured, placing a soft kiss on her lips. “I just meant I would have to actually take this job seriously if you weren’t here.”

“Oh, well, of course. But it’s purely for myself. I love making Bran’s job harder.”

Varric rolled his eyes, a smile contrasting the action. “And you’re not here purely out of love for me?”

“Oh, no no, of course not! I’d say my love for you comes at a solid...third place here. First place is annoying Bran and second place is wearing pretty dresses.” She patted her dress for emphasis.

“Good to know where I stand,” he joked as the doors opened once more. They exchanged a look and turned to the entering citizen. 

“Good evening, Serah!” Eden greeted loudly. “How can we help you today?”

The woman looked nervous. “Um, where’s Seneschal Bran?”

“Out on official business,” Varric explained. “Don’t worry.”

“Well, I wanted to talk to him about the snails.”

Eden and Varric stole a quick glance at each other, then turned back to the woman. “Snails?” they asked simultaneously. 

The woman was now becoming distraught. “Yes, the snails! I had already talked with him at length about them and—”

“I’m sorry.” Eden raised her hand. “What snails?”

_ “The snails,”  _ the woman repeated, looking terrified out of her mind. “They’re following me. They’re everywhere. No matter where I go. I tried to ask the elves down in the Alienage if it was a bad omen, but they all rushed me out.”

Varric stifled a chuckle. “They tend to do that when you insult them.”

“Insult?” she shrieked. “I just—”

“Tell us more about the snails, please,” Eden interrupted. 

The woman was shaking now. “They follow me  _ everywhere!  _ I can’t escape them, they’re in my bed, they’re in my bath, they’re in my food!”

“I’m terribly sorry, but...what exactly are we supposed to do about it?”

She gasped, an incredulous look passing over her face. “Seneschal Bran didn’t address this? He didn’t tell you? He promised he would!”

Eden resisted the urge to turn towards Varric again, instead leaning back in her seat. “Oh, right right, the snails! I’m sorry, it completely passed my mind by.”

“He told you?” The woman’s face lit up. “Oh, good.”

Varric tapped his knuckles on the desk. “We’ll take care of it right away.”

“You’ll get rid of them?”

“Yup! Don’t you worry.”

The woman sighed a breath of relief. “Thank the Maker. Bless you both!” 

They watched her rush out of the room. Eden snickered. “What?” she asked, bewildered.

“I have no idea,” Varric responded, shaking his head, “but that one was a yes. Next one has to be a no.”

“This is fun! We should do this more often.”

“I have a feeling Bran will chain himself to the wall before he leaves us alone again. Let’s enjoy this while we have the opportunity, shall we?”

The next person who came in was a buff man with his arms crossed, looking very angry. “Good evening, Viscount and Viscountess Tethras. I—”

“Of House Tethras,” Eden corrected.

“I—what?”

She blinked. “Viscount and Viscountess of House Tethras.”

The two of them stared at each other for an uncomfortably long amount of time before his gaze turned to Varric. “My neighbor’s mabari won’t shut up and I want you to get rid of it.”

Varric opened his mouth to speak, but Eden gasped loudly, putting a hand on her chest. “Serah! Did you really just ask a  _ dwarf  _ to dispose of a mabari?”

She heard Varric lean back in his chair, clicking his tongue against his teeth. “What?” the man asked. 

“Darling, I’m so, so sorry,” she said, turning to Varric dramatically, who had adopted a fierce scowl. “I’m sure he doesn’t know.”

The man was now shifting his weight around awkwardly. “K-Know what?”

“You  _ never  _ ask a dwarf to dispose of mabaris. Don’t you know the legend of the Mabari Hunters?”

He swallowed. “Oh, uh, of course I do! I apologize to have taken up your time with such an insulting question, Viscount Teth—I mean Viscount of House Tethras.”

Varric waved his hand nonchalantly. “It’s of no import. And it’s Viscount Tethras.”

“But I—”

“Viscount Tethras, Viscountess Hawke, or Viscount and Viscountess of House Tethras,” Eden offered. “I suggest you learn it before coming in here and insulting us again!”

“Yes, of course, Your Grace! Good day.” He rushed out quickly, murmuring something under his breath about “crazy Fereldans”. 

Varric almost choked on his laughter once they were in the clear. “How are you that good at bullshitting? The  _ Mabari Hunters?”  _

She kissed his hand. “I learned from the best. Besides, I wanted to make him feel uncomfortable for wanting us to kill a mabari. Disgusting.”

“We know you like your dogs,” he reassured, patting her hand. “It won’t happen. I promise.”

“I knew there was a reason I keep you around.”

The doors opened once more, and this time a teenager stepped in. “Good evening, Viscount and Viscountess of House Tethras! How are you two fine people today?”

Eden and Varric exchanged looks. “Absolutely perfect, thank you,” she chirped.

“Well, I have an idea that’ll knock your socks off,” the boy said, snapping open a piece of parchment. “There’s a little section in Hightown that isn’t currently being used by anyone, and I have the perfect idea of what to put there.”

Varric chuckled. “Go on, kid.”

He beamed. “It’s called a kissing booth. Many beautiful ladies—such as yourself, Viscountess Hawke—line up and pay a few sovereigns to kiss one lucky man.”

“And...who would that lucky man be?”

“Me, of course!”

“And the proceeds go to…?”

The boy hesitated. “Me. Of course.”

Eden snorted. “Alright, kid. How about this? If all of your proceeds go to the Alienage, then I will personally pay for and have your kissing booth built. Plus I’ll spread posters about it all over town. How does that sound?”

The kid practically jumped out of his skin. “Yes, of course! I didn’t even think about helping the elves! Thank you so much!”

“What’s your name, kid?” Varric asked.

“I don’t have a name really,” he mumbled. “But the ladies call me Charming. Adults call me Pockets.”

Varric walked over to him, taking the parchment. “We’ll get right on it, Pockets. See you later.”

“Bye!” Pockets sprinted out of the office, causing havoc as he left. Varric shook his head, turning back to Eden, raising the piece of paper incredulously.

“Some kid, huh?” Eden joked.

“Tell me about it. We—”

He was interrupted as the doors opened, this time by Bran. Eden quickly snatched her crown off of the desk, haphazardly placing it on her head and offering Bran an innocent smile. He sighed deeply as Varric returned to his seat. “How was it, Bran?” Eden asked.

“Don’t play coy with me. I know you set that pirate on me.”

“Whatever could you be talking about?” She batted her eyelashes at him.

“I caught her, Eden. I’m not as idiotic as you claim I am. Now you will fix your crown, you will sit up straight, and you will answer your people’s questions. Appropriately.”

“We already knocked off a few before you got back, Bran! You’d be proud,” Varric offered.

Bran pinched the bridge of his nose, scrunching up his face. “I have a strong feeling I would not be proud. Nothing will make me leave this office again. And don’t forget you have several salons to attend next week.”

“Are we—”

“No, you are not going alone. Have you forgotten what happened last time I let you attend a salon alone?”

A small flashback of a tower of champagne and fire entered Eden’s mind. “No.”

“Of course. Fix your crown. There are hundreds of people waiting for your guidance. If you hope to get out of here at a reasonable hour, you will sit here nicely and answer them quickly and appropriately. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” she said, throwing him a wink.

He sighed again. Eden was convinced that was just the way he breathed now. “Good. Send in the next citizen please.”

Varric leaned over in his seat. “So what are you planning for the party?” he whispered.

“Oh, you’ll see,” she responded with a grin. “You’ll see.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank god i found the inspiration to write this, i had a BLAST with this. watch out for Pockets, he may or may not be showing up in another wip (eyes emoji). i hope you enjoyed! comments are super super appreciated so please drop one below! have a good day <3


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